What I Did Today
by Quadrillionaire
Summary: Instead of expelling the Marauders for the werewolf incident, Dumbledore gives them an assignment: For each to fill out a journal. Accompanied by the arrival of a broken Lily Evans, James might finally figure out what's been missing in his life.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I own absolutely nothing. Nada. 沒什麼. لا شيء. 아무것도. rien. τίποτα. không. גאָרנישט.

Yep. I just denied it in eight different languages. Including Yiddish.

Now you know I'm Sirius.

HEH HEH HEH.

* * *

><p>10<em>2/75 -__**JAMES POTTER-**_

_This is stupid. (And trust me, I should know- I've done a lot of stupid things before this.)_

_Here I am, James Potter, writing enthusiastically in this journal like the good law-abiding Marauder we all know and love. _

_I mean, it stops us from being expelled, and Dumbledore asked us to do it, but... it still pisses me off._

_The whole thing was just... an accident. Maybe Sirius took it a bit too far, but Snivellus was just asking for it. Snooping around and spying on us to figure out what we did with Moony every month, because he was so SURE it was something that would get us expelled. It was none of his business. Slimy git. It's no wonder no one likes him except for that clique of future Death Eaters he hangs out with._

_And I __saved__ him. I'm the one who pulled him back in time so he wouldn't have his greasy little head ripped off- he should be thanking me. _

_We all hate his guts, but I'd never, ever let him die. Not if I could help it, anyways. Maybe eternal pranks or devastating public embarrassment, but not death. Not even the nastiest snake deserved that._

_And maybe a small "thank you" would have sufficed, but no. Instead, dear old Snivellus demands for our expulsion. _

_Well, screw him. Next time a werewolf wants to slaughter him, he shouldn't count on me to come save his arse._

* * *

><p>James slammed his journal shut with a bit more force than necessary before launching it in the trash with a well-aimed toss.<p>

The notebook was charmed so that he'd never lose it; Dumbledore made sure of that. So no matter where he threw it... across the hall, out the window, or at a Syltherin's head, it always ended up back in the pocket of his robe, quill tucked neatly inside like a puppy that kept running back home no matter how many times the owner kicked it out.

While being very convenient, it also annoyed him.

A lot.

He needed something to do.

Two first year Slytherins caught his eye. With a smirk he placed his hand on his wand and sauntered over, feeling satisfaction when he saw fear reflected in their eyes at the realization of who he was.

Grinning, he slowly pulled out his wand and began tapping it against his palm. "Hey guys, wanna play a game?"

The two first years widened their eyes in alarm and backed up against the wall.

This would be fun.

* * *

><p><strong><em><em><strong>Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry Hospital Wing<strong>__**

**_ATTENDANCE RECORD_**

□ Sorted by patients w/most appearances

Sorted by patient's arrival (newest to oldest)

□ Sorted by patient's arrival (oldest to newest)

□ Sorted by age

□ Sorted by most gruesome injuries

□ Sorted by most stupid injuries

□ Sorted however damned way the record wants to sort it

* * *

><p>DATETIME ADMITTED: 10/2/75, 11:34 AM

DATE/TIME RELEASED: 10/2/75, 12:57 PM

NAME(s): Regulus Black; Rabastan Lestrange

YEAR(s): 1st; 1st

AGE(s): 11; 11

GENDER(s): Male; Male

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE(s): Caucasian, black hair/eyes, 4'11"; Caucasian, brown hair, black eyes, 5'0"

BLOOD STATUS(s): Pureblood; Pureblood

MAGICAL CORE(s): 8.2/10, semi-powerful; 5.1/10, average

HOUSE(s): Slytherin; Slytherin

INJURY(s): Magical-inflicted by hexes-minor physical injuries including bruising/small cuts. Most are transfigured body parts. Black has neon pink skin, duck feet, three noses, a squirrel tail, and is under a hex that forces the patient to yodel continuously; Lestrange's head was transfigured to a chicken head-currently unable of coherent human speech.

SPECIFICS/OTHER INFO: James Potter (5th year, Gryffindor) claimed he saw Black and Lestrange hexing one another and decided to intervene. He led the two to the infirmary. Ten points to Gryffindor awarded for chivalry and being a good role model.


	2. Chapter 2

It's pretty obvious that I don't own anything.

So.

FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS DISCLAIMERS SHALL BE NONEXISTENT.

* * *

><p><strong><em>103/75 -**SIRIUS BLACK-**_**

_Filch is a greasy git._

_Who has yellow, crooked teeth._

_Bad breath._

_Wrinkles._

_Just pure ugliness all wrapped up in one man. No wonder he's such an arse all the time. I would be too, if I had to see all that every time I looked in a mirror. _

_My fingers are still stinging from all those cauldrons he made me scrub; it really puts into perspective how horribly muggles and squibs live without magic. (Aha. Another reason why he's so bitter all the time.)_

_Usually detentions are more endurable because I either have Prongs or Wormtail or Moony by my side scrubbing cauldrons, writing lines, or doing paperwork with me. It's so boring without either of them. _

_Ah, well. At least I don't have to work with that toerag, Remus._

_You don't think he'd be the type to hold a grudge, eh?_

_It's already been, like, two weeks since that thing at the Shrieking Shack, and he still won't talk to me. Look at me. Acknowledge my existence at all, for that matter. I mean, I'm not a sensitive guy, but that really strikes a nerve; especially since I apologized and everything. Makes me want to grab him by the collar and just shake some sense into him. _

_But I won't._

_Because two can play at that game. _

* * *

><p>Sirius frowned at the page; he hadn't meant to write all that- but whatever. It wasn't like anyone would ever be able to read it.<p>

Of course, he never did notice Rita Skeeter's shrewd gaze over her glassy spectacles.

* * *

><p>The incense of wild herbs and spice lingered on the potions professor as he presented his handiwork to the mediwitch.<p>

"This is wonderful, Horace. I can't stress enough how generous your contributions have been," Madame Pomfrey said with a thankful, but slightly weary smile.

"Oh, no! The pleasure is all mine, Poppy. Anything for an old colleague," Professor Slughorn replied jovially. "And may I ask if the condition of your patient is improving? After all, it wouldn't do if my potions aren't top notch."

Madame Pomfrey let out a small sigh and attempted to brandish what could have been another reassuring smile. "Yes, her condition has been rapidly improving since we've started putting her on your medication program; the stuff they sell out in the magical pharmacies are all rubbish compared to what you can brew."

Professor Slughorn silently swelled with pride at the witch's words. He knew she was not one for dishing out empty compliments.

"I feel as though I did not properly earn your acknowledgement, but I will gratefully accept it." He paused. "I've heard some... rumors of your patient, Poppy. Is she..." he trailed off, his unsaid words implicating all the questions than he could not say aloud.

"Our answers will only come with time, Horace," Madame Pomfrey replied after a short pause. "Only with time."

* * *

><p><strong><em><em><strong>Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry Hospital Wing<strong>__**

**_ATTENDANCE RECORD_**

□ Sorted by patients w/most appearances

Sorted by patient's arrival (newest to oldest)

□ Sorted by patient's arrival (oldest to newest)

□ Sorted by age

Sorted by most gruesome injuries

□ Sorted by most stupid injuries

□ Sorted however damned way the record wants to sort it

* * *

><p>DATETIME ADMITTED: 8/26/75, 2:16 AM

DATE/TIME RELEASED: UNDEFINED

NAME(s): UNDEFINED

YEAR(s): UNDEFINED

AGE(s): UNDEFINED

GENDER(s): Female

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE(s): Caucasian, red hair, green eyes, 5'3"

BLOOD STATUS(s): UNDEFINED

MAGICAL CORE(s): UNDEFINED

HOUSE(s): UNDEFINED

INJURY(s): Suffered from extreme blood loss/malnutrition. Was severely underweight. Fractured left wrist/right radius/left tibia. Several ribs broken, puncturing organs, causing extreme tearing to lungs. Deep bruises under skin leading to bursting blood vessels. Cuts varying from size/depth cover body. Psychological state in questioning. Fractured skull leading to comatose state.

SPECIFICS/OTHER INFO: Ministry of Magic found Evans after being alerted to a strong presence of magic in a prohibited area. Injuries are due to repeating bouts of strong uncontrolled accidental magic without proper supervision or healing afterwards. Currently no contact with blood relatives.


	3. Chapter 3

_10/3/75 **-PETER PETTIGREW-**_

_Potions class is super hard. _

_There are lots and lots of different herbs and gooey stuff you have to chop up and melt, and it all has to be one hundred percent perfect or else the cauldron will melt or it'll just explode._

_For some reason mine always seems to explode._

_It makes me feel not so smart. __Especially when Snivellus somehow always makes the best potions in the class- without even following the directions! I don't know why. It's not fair. He's just a dummy. A scary creepy, weird dummy. Ha-ha! At least I'm not a dummy._

_Oh, well. Someday I will be a big, famous auror who beats up Death Eaters (like Snivellus!) and I will be really brave and stuff. Mum and Dad say that I'm too much of a coward to amount to anything much, but I'll show them! It's one of the reasons I hang out with James, Sirius, and Remus. They're all so cool and not scared of anything. Some day I will be like that, too. _

* * *

><p>Peter quietly beamed to himself as he reread his almost illegible scrawl.<p>

Yes, he knew he didn't have the obnoxiously-smart-but-sensitively-thoughtful charisma Remus radiated, nor did he have Sirius' chiseled features that would turn heads, or Jame's confident stride that seemed to commend respect.

Perhaps he would never have those distinctive traits that he secretly envied even more than he admired.

But he still hoped.

He hoped that he could, step by step, mold himself to be the defiant knight in shining armor, the selfless hero that would stand above all else. The one that gave protection with a strong heart instead of receiving it with shaking hands.

It really was a shame how Fate decided to contort his destiny for its own spiteful amusement.

After all, what were the earnest dreams of a young boy worth to it?

* * *

><p>Madame Pomfrey usually hummed as she prepared herself for the usual busy day ahead, filled with the tedious but enjoyable responsibility of healing students with injuries varying from bloody fractured bones to amusing hexes that threatened to make the mediwitch break out into a smirk.<p>

Recently, however, she didn't have the time nor energy to be idly twiddling her thumbs as she patiently waited for the next broken nose from a rough Quidditch match.

Rather, she had moved her favorite dragon hide chair away from her favorite tea table by the window, and instead of facing the vast naturethat surrounded Hogwarts, her view was now limited to a single sickly child.

The mediwitch felt her throat constrict as she collected the potions her patient would be reliant on for the next several weeks.

When the girl had first been brought to her... it was horrible. All that blood all too vividly revoked the heavy memories of the First War. All those screaming in agony, accompanied by the haunted eyes of children whose trauma had made them wise beyond their years.

All those she could not save.

And so she was determined, so very determined, to _keep this one alive._ Redemption, perhaps, for promises not kept and hungry ghosts she felt chasing after her for things she she did, didn't do, should have done.

Taking all that into consideration, it was quite understandable as to why she stood there, potions vials crashing down by her feet but unable to do anything as the expensive liquids pooled on the floor. Ice silently spread through her, replacing the color on her cheeks with a pale mask mixed with disbelief, shock, and horror.

Her eyes desperately traced the outline on her patient's bed which was filled with small folds and lazily lounging wrinkles; clear indicators that someone had been occupying bed shortly beforehand.

The patient herself, however, was nowhere to be seen.


	4. Chapter 4

James deftly worked his fingers around the desperate-to-escape snitch as he strode through the halls of Hogwarts, ignoring the impressed eyes of students he passed with a smirk decorating his face.

He had never _not_ been at the center of attention before- he was James Potter. Wherever there were people, you could count on him to be coasting the social waves of popularity while everyone else watched in awe. He knew what, when, and how to say things and who to say them to. Knowing how to charm people came like second nature to him, only being one upped by his ability to always get what he wanted.

Always.

And so that one fateful day when he met Severus Snape four years, one month, and two days ago was something of great significance to him, though he would never admit it to anyone else.

Upon seeing the sallow-skinned, oddly eerie eleven year old all by himself in a lonely looking compartment, the friendly would-be Gryffindor felt an unusual mixture of both pity and strong dislike. He could almost smell the stench of a Slytherin wafting from him, but James had felt obliged to do _something,_ if not to only acknowledge the other boy's existence.

Needless to say, it did not end well.

And thus, a bitter rivalry was born.

Whenever James remembered that day, he always felt a sudden urge to sulk by himself somewhere. It was stupidly childish, but he still felt resentful at his first failure of being unable to charm someone into oblivion.

Conveniently, Sirius was still in detention with Filch (no doubt the old squib was still furious about the mass of dungbomb explosions), Remus was studying in the library, and Peter was doing... well, whatever he did when he wasn't worshipfully drooling over James (which wasn't very often).

James decided to make his way to the Marauder's tree by the lake, which just happened to be placed so they had a fine view of the tree Severus so often read under- just in case they ever felt in the mood to mess with him (and that, respectively, was all the time).

He was unpleasantly surprised, however, to see that someone was already sitting by the _Marauder's_ tree. Frowning, he took a closer look at the person who dared to violate the invisible law that prohibited any non-Marauder from basking under the tree.

He probably would have begun with a lashing order to "MOVE YOUR SKINNY LITTLE ARSE BEFORE I MAKE YOU," as he was not nearly as charismatic when he was in a cranky mood. However, upon realizing the intruder was a girl, he held back his temper and began to tread lightly.

It had happened several times before, so he knew whenever a girl was waiting under the tree, she was usually an ex of Sirius' who was, to put mildly, 'unhappy' about the circumstances in which they broke up, and was waiting to ambush him with a hex or two. Unfortunately, more often than not, it was James, Remus, or Peter who faced the brunt of the assaults, as Sirius had a knack of conveniently disappearing when angry witches were involved.

"Er. Hello..." James said cautiously as the girl took notice of him, slowly inching his way backwards to safety. "Sirius isn't here with me, so... um... I'll just... leave." He fought the urge to run as felt her stare linger on him longer than necessary. That tended to be the first sign that he was going to be horribly hexed by an angsty hormonal teen witch.

Instead, she cocked her head and asked, "Why?"

"Because... that's why you're here, right?" James questioned, feeling less panicky, but slightly confused.

"No. I'm here because I like looking at the lake from here. It's pretty." She paused, smiling, before letting out a sickly sounding cough. "Isn't that why you're here?"

James stared at the girl, suddenly realizing that he didn't know who she was. Despite being extremely popular, it wasn't like he was on a first name basis with everyone- but he definitely would have remembered someone who had fiery red hair like hers. Her bangs were messy and long enough to cover her eyes, and he found himself wondering if she could see at all.

"I can leave, if you want me too," she said, misinterpreting his silence.

"No, that's okay," James replied quickly, not wanting to seem rude. Besides, she didn't seem to be the loud and nosy type like most girls, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't slightly curious about her.

She scooted over, and he sat in the empty spot.

"So, what's your name?" he asked, absentmindedly fiddling with a piece of grass.

"Lily. Lily Evans."


	5. Chapter 5

10/3/75 **-JAMES POTTER-**

_I met a weird girl today by the lake._

_Not weird like giggly and blush-y and nail polish-y... Oh, wait. I think that's most girls, come to think of it. I guess that's considered normal, then. Extremely girly witches with a fascination for unicorns and all things sparkly._

_Of course, it's not like I particularly mind hoards of giggly fangirls trailing after me, since some of them are pretty hot... _

_Hm. I'm getting sidetracked again. What was I writing about?_

_Oh yeah. That girl I met by the lake._

_Her name was Lily Evans, I think. At first I thought she might be a relative of the Weasleys, with their famous red hair and all, but theirs is a kind of orange-reddish color while hers is more like the color of blood. Not the prettiest comparison, but the other closest idea I could come up with was ketchup. Ketchup-colored hair. And that sounds stupid._

_To be honest, I think she's got a few screws loose in her head. You'd think she was a muggle from all the stuff she doesn't know about magic. When I showed her my wand (eleven inches, mahogany, Dragon heartstring. One of the best wands there ever was) she said it looked like a 'weird, kind of useless pencil'. Bloody hell. I'm getting a migraine just thinking about it._

_Anyways, Madam Pomfrey suddenly spotted us and ran at us, screaming about how worried she was and how dangerous it was for Evans to be walking around. She also said something about 'proper rest' and 'medicinal potions' and started checking the both of us for 'any possible fatal injuries' while pushing Evans away from me, like she was afraid she'd explode or something._

_Then she started yelling at me for not contacting one of the teachers after 'finding my delicate patient' and whatnot before pulling Evans away, muttering about the 'abhorrent irresponsibility of the youth nowadays'. _

_Merlin, you'd think she broke out of Azkaban from all that screaming she was going. Personally, I think all the evidence points to Evans being a St. Mungo's mental institute escapee, but whatever._

_Enough about her, though. I've got some more important business to record so I can read this someday in the future and look back fondly at good memories._

_Snivellus was doing what he always does best_ (_being creepy) __when Sirius and I managed to catch him off-guard. _

_Ah, the fun we three had together. Hexing those first years yesterday was good practice, but I unfortunately couldn't use the same spells. Too suspicious._

_So instead I opted for a curse which only let the greasy git speak in Chinese or Yiddish, but Sirius hit him with a hex that partially transfigured him into a turtle, so for a little while he was some sort of awkward Kappa that kept hissing "__你他媽的!"_ _and "_ז_ון__ פון אַ צוי'!". __I"m not exactly sure what he was saying, but I could pretty much figure out it wasn't pretty._

_Anyways, we managed to flip him over so he was stuck on his back, not able to get up because of his new shell. It was so damned funny that we started crying because we were laughing so much._

_But then his Death Eater friends came by and ruined the fun and we had to make a run for it. Trust me, we would have taken them down any day, but cowards run in packs and they outnumbered us by at least five or six guys. _

_They were using dark curses, the bastards. One caught Sirius' leg and gave him a nasty burn, and we tried to go to Madam Pomfrey for help, but she wasn't there. _

_I tried to get Sirius to go to Remus for help. He's really smart and probably knew something that'd be good for burns, but I think they're still fighting about what happened at the Shrieking Shack. I haven't seen them talk to each other for days, and it's really starting to bug me. _

_I know Remus was probably really angry about what Sirius did. I mean, after all if I wasn't there to stop Snivellus, Remus might have become a murderer that night. And... well... I dunno. Sirius was really kind of not smart stupid really stupid insensitive about what he did. I mean, he knew Remus really hated the fact that he was a werewolf, but..._

_Ugh. Whatever. This is pissing me off. _

_I'm gonna go hex some more Slytherins._

* * *

><em><em>

"Lemon drop?" Dumbledore offered pleasantly.

"No, Albus. This isn't the time for it," Professor McGonagall clipped sharply.

"I'll take one," Lily Evans said at the same time, palm stretched out expectantly.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he floated one of the sugar-encrusted candies towards the girl who grinned appreciatively as she began sucking on the snack.

No one had taken up on the offer for the disgustingly sweet candy for years, and Professor McGonagall had blinked for a few moments before snapping out of her surprise.

"Are you allowed to have candy, Miss Evans?" she asked worriedly.

"Probably not," Lily shrugged, and the Professor winced as she blocked the image of an enraged Madam Pomfrey breathing fire about letting her patient ingest such an unhealthy clump of sugar. Feeding patients junk food was practically sacrilegious to the mediwitch, right after letting Dementors giving out free hugs at the hospital wing.

"Anyways, what seems to be the problem, Minerva?" Professor Flitwick asked curiously.

"Ah, well..." She nodded meaningfully to the red haired girl in beside her who was now petting Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix.

"Miss Evans, I believe Madam Pomfrey would like to see you now. Fawkes will guide you back to the hospital wing," Dumbledore said to Lily. She nodded, and with a trill Fawkes flew out of the room, the girl tailing after him.

"Again, I must remind you... the girl is not exactly _safe_," Professor McGonagall sighed after the door closed.

"Not safe? She seems to be a perfectly charming young lady," Professor Sprout commented, head cocked.

"I agree. A bit on the odd side, she is, but seems to be intelligent, nonetheless," Professor Flitwick agreed.

Professor Slughorn and Professor McGonagall shifted uncomfortably.

"'I apologize. It doesn't seem as if Poppy had yet to share the details with anyone else. I suppose she had been rather busy..."

"Details? What details?" Sprout questioned, concerned.

And so explanations ensued.

Of course, no one knew she was listening right outside the door.


End file.
